Wild Card
by xxIAmTheSkyxx
Summary: "At the end of the day, whether someone had a motive to kill or not, they're still labeled a murderer." Delving into the psyche of a serial killer isn't a pleasant endeavor, no less so than trying to understand it—and being sucked into a game of life and death with one is outright torment. Present for @kagero-assassin on Tumblr. **WARNING: THERE IS BLOOD, MURDER, AND SOCIOPATHY**
_BAM I'M BACK ON FF! DID YOU MISS ME?_

 _XD In all seriousness, this was something my friend from Tumblr asked me to do. I wrote this for her and she wanted it moved here for easy reading, so here it is!_

 _Again, happy birthday, Kay! I'm super happy you loved it! *hugs*_

* * *

 **Wild Card**

"…Rise and shine."

A voice whispered to her from the blackness. Soft, unassuming…yet compelling. It gently tugged at her consciousness, urging her to leave the comforts of the dark.

 _It's time to wake up…why don't we have some fun now?_

Her eyes snapped open—and she was still in that same blackness. She couldn't see anything…where she was, what she was doing. She couldn't move. She was stuck—somehow trapped here, but she couldn't remember why, or how, or when—

Her heart palpitated wildly as her mind slowly began to take hold of the situation she was in. She was alone here, in the darkness, unable to move. She couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anyone—her mind was completely isolated and disoriented.

What in the world had happened?

"Oh, you're finally awake."

She hardly had time to gasp in shock at the sudden voice as the echoing sound of a thousand metal shutters slammed into her ears, a spontaneous bright light blinding her in the process. She quickly shut her eyes and turned away to avoid having them damaged by the sudden change. If she'd been free to raise her arms to her face, she would've done so.

"Too bright for you, sleepyhead? Sorry about that."

It was a moment before she could gather her bearings and attempt to blink the spots out of her eyes. When her vision cleared, she looked around to try and assess her surroundings—she seemed to be in some sort of abandoned storehouse, which was practically empty. She lowered her gaze and realized that she was strapped to a wooden chair, both her legs and arms bound tightly.

She seemed to be the only person here…but then who had spoken to her earlier?

"Aw, you seem confused. Need a hint, Lisanna?"

She yelped and swiftly flicked her gaze in the direction of the voice—at the right corner of the empty building, leaning against the door frame and staring at her with a mildly amused grin, stood a man with a familiar face.

She could hardly bring herself to speak his name.

"N…Natsu…?" she gasped.

"Good morning." He straightened up and approached her deliberately, his cold, sharp gaze never leaving her face. "How'd you sleep?"

She didn't answer him as he paused just a pace away, staring back at him in horror. She couldn't quite understand why—nothing about him should've been threatening. He was alone. He was wearing a rumpled black tank top and spotless jeans, black wrist warmers, and his trademark sandals and scarf. He had no weapons on him from what she could tell. His smile seemed warm enough, if somewhat rogue-ish, his pink hair was a messy mop just like she remembered it, and his tone held no malice…but she still felt extremely uncomfortable. Something wasn't right. That smile hadn't reached his eyes—they looked just as foreboding and cold as it had before. Her brain was screaming _DANGER!_ at her louder and louder the longer she stared at him.

"I—I don't understand," she stammered, struggling against her bonds as he knelt in front of her. "Natsu, what's—?"

"Shh." He placed a hand on her lips, silencing her. His lips twitched up knowingly. "I don't want to ruin the surprise."

"Surprise?" she managed once he lifted his finger away. "Wh-what're you talking ab—?"

"Y'know, you're being really talkative," he said mildly, resting his forearm on his knee. "You sure you want to ruin the surprise? It's a really good one; I promise."

She bit her lip and tried not to yelp as she felt her heart leap into her throat at his tone of voice. A whimper escaped her, however, because she simply couldn't help the terror building up in her chest.

 _What's happening…?!_

"That's a good girl," he complimented, patting her once on the shoulder before rising to his feet and turning to the doorway expectantly. "Well, why don't we do something fun while we wait?"

She felt her throat clog up and her eyes widen in her terror as he looked back to her. His widening smile, the sly light glinting in his dark eyes, the arched eyebrows…he looked so… _hungry_. She wanted to scream at the sight of it, but her voice wouldn't work—it was stuck in her throat.

All she could manage was a weak and quavering, "N-no—!"

"Don't worry. I'm not asking for much." He leaned in, closely enough for her to see the flecks of gray in his dark eyes, and seized her chin. Her breath caught in her throat. "I've always liked you, y'know. Enough to give you gifts on a regular basis, even, so I hope it's not too much to ask for something in return after all this time." He chuckled, low and long. "But trust me…it's not much at all."

She could hold in her curiosity no longer. "Wh-what do you want from me, then?" she asked as evenly as she could—which wasn't very much. "If you want money or something like—"

"Pfft, please; who do you take me for?" he scoffed lightly, pulling back slightly. "You can keep your money. It won't get me what I want. And besides, it doesn't cost me anything."

"Then…what _do_ you want?" she asked, puzzlement clouding some of her apprehension. "If you don't want those things, then what…?"

"Do you really think I'm _that_ superficial?" he teased, straightening up and circling around behind her. "What do I need money for when I'm already so rich?"

"…Wh-what?"

At this point, Natsu seemed to be ignoring her. She could feel his presence behind him, pressing and looming over her almost to the point of suffocation. She felt a calloused hand run down the length of her right forearm, right over the ropes that bound them together, once…twice…thrice.

Then abruptly: "Hold still."

She then felt a cold, sharp pain shooting down her forearm—enough to make her cry out in pain and bite her lip to avoid crying.

"Y'know something funny," he mused, his finger lightly brushing her bloodied cut several times, "the reason I brought you here…it's because something occurred to me the other day—that I've never tasted yours before." A pause. "Glad I seized that opportunity; it's got a rich taste. Sort of on the fatty side, but nothing too bad…if I may be honest, maybe I'll save some for later. Call it a guilty pleasure." She felt something cold prick the crease of her elbow as he spoke. "Hold still for a minute; don't want you to hurt yourself."

She complied without difficulty—indeed, she wasn't even sure if she could've moved even if she'd wanted to. This situation she'd found herself in was just too surreal; her mind could scarcely take it in.

 _Natsu…have you…have you always been like this…?_

"All right; that should be enough," he muttered. He circled back around in front of her and got down on one knee. His expression was surprisingly soft…almost _pained_. "Thanks for being patient with me. Your surprise is just about ready now."

She hardly had the wherewithal to ask him what he meant before a sharp voice ordered, " _FREEZE!_ "

* * *

Thankfully, Lucy hadn't arrived a moment too soon.

The killer was still there, and—to her utmost relief—Lisanna was still alive. She would've been at a loss if it hadn't been the case.

"Lucy!" Lisanna cried out in relief. "It's you!"

Even in spite of the grim situation, Lucy smiled and nodded in reassurance at her friend. "Don't worry about a thing, Lisanna," she assured her. "You're okay now; just hang tight, okay?"

She then turned all of her attention to her friend's captor. "Hands behind your head, Dragneel!" she instructed the man sharply, keeping her firearm pointedly aimed at him. "Step away from the hostage! Any funny business and I'll shoot!"

The man slowly raised his hands without protest and placed them behind his head as he rose to a standing position, his back still turned to her. He stepped back a couple in her direction before glancing over his shoulder and greeting her with knowing grin.

"Well, well…if it isn't my favorite investigator," he observed with amusement plain in his countenance. "What were the odds that you'd be the one sent to haul me in this time?"

"Such a shame that Lady Luck didn't want to be on your side today," she said, inching closer cautiously. "Because today is when your senseless killing spree ends."

"'Senseless'? Hardly." He cocked his head to the side, a pronounced smirk on his face. "You poor deprived souls just don't see the beauty of having another human being's life in your hands to do with as you please. It's amazingly gratifying."

"You can save your excuses for when we get to the station." She quickly glanced over to the door. "Gray!"

On cue, her dark-haired partner rushed into the warehouse and tackled the man to the ground. Both of them sprawled onto the ground, and Gray pinned the man to the ground as he handcuffed him.

"I got him!" he grunted. "Get Lisanna free!"

"…Y'know, you didn't need to be quite that dramatic, Fullbuster," the pink-haired man noted with a grunt from his spot pinned beneath his knees. "I couldn't exactly fight back with a gun pointed at my head."

"Tch, shut the hell up!" Gray growled. "It's good enough for me to know that we caught you off-guard for once, you cocky bastard!"

"Oh, of course. Must be a great day for you."

"…Gray, quit arguing with him and just get him into the cruiser." Lucy ignored the rest of the banter between the two men as she rushed up toward her friend and began cutting her loose.

"Lisanna, are you okay?" Lucy asked her urgently as she cut the ropes binding her friend's legs to the chair. "He didn't do anything to hurt you or anything, right?"

The fair-haired young woman shook her head, biting her lip. "Well…nothing too serious," she answered shakily. "But I—I think he cut my arm…"

Lucy's heart skipped a beat. "He what?!"

"H-he said something about…not having tasted mine before…or something like that." She shuddered, blanching. "I just…don't understand what's happening…he wasn't like this before, and I'm just—"

"You knew him from before?" she asked, partly out of genuine curiosity and partly to distract her friend from the pain as she undid the ropes binding her wrists and wrapped them quickly with gauze. _So much blood…how deeply did that bastard cut?!_ "How did you know him?"

"We were friends when we were kids," Lisanna replied, her breathing somewhat steadier now. "He's—well, he was the nicest person I ever knew. Then I moved away, and I hadn't seen him for years, and now—now he's—I don't know what's—!"

"Hey, it's okay," she soothed her as she finished tightening the gauze and standing her up. "We'll figure out what's happening; I promise. If he really was as nice as you say he was, then there must be a reason he's doing all these things now."

Lisanna cast her gaze toward the ground, uneasiness glinting in her deep blue eyes. "What…what else has he been doing, Lucy?" she asked nervously.

Lucy sighed. "…How about we talk more about this at the station?" she suggested gently. "I'm sorry; I know you've been through a lot already, but…I'm gonna need you to answer a few questions before you go home. Better to get it all off your chest while it's still fresh in your mind."

"Oh…okay."

* * *

It was late once Lucy returned to the station.

"So did you get anything out of him?" Lucy asked her partner as she reentered the building.

Gray scoffed from his spot at his desk. "Don't I wish," he muttered. "He's not budging even a bit. Not even Erza could get through to him, that bastard. Kept repeating things to us that we already know. Fuckin' smartass." He mussed his messy dark hair and raised his tired gaze to hers. "Did you get Lisanna home okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine," she said, tossing her coat onto her chair. "Mira will see to it that she'll be all right."

"That's good to hear," he sighed and stretched as he rose from his chair. "Well, I was about to clock out for today. Don't think we'll get anywhere with him yet." He then eyed Lucy carefully. "Unless you're willing to give it a shot? We could actually get somewhere if you talked to him instead."

Lucy groaned and palmed her face in exhaustion. "Don't remind me," she mumbled. "I feel like I'm being violated every time he looks at me."

"Don't we all feel the same," Gray grunted, cracking his neck once before crossing his arms. "Hate to say it, but you're the only one he even bothers to give the time of day around here." He looked to her. "So, what're you gonna do? Gonna talk to him now, or do you want to wait until tomorrow? It's not like he's going anywhere."

 _Yeah, and for good reason…_ Lucy sighed as she brushed a stray blonde lock of hair out of her face and raised an eyebrow at her partner. "Are you willing to stay on duty for another couple hours?"

"Hey, I'm willing to stay all night if it means we'll finally get some actual answers."

"All right then." Lucy turned and strode in the direction of the interrogating room. "Have the cameras ready."

* * *

Lucy saw him twirling a pencil in his hand when she caught sight of him through the one-way window.

She was so bewildered that—for a moment—all she could do was stare at him for the good part of a minute. He looked so _ordinary_ —he looked like a bored college student in the middle of a lecture more than anything—that it nearly gave her vertigo. _This_ was the serial killer officially credited with seven first-degree murders over the course of a month? He was a convicted criminal—Lucy _knew_ this—but why did he look so out of place in that room?

"Lucy, you're good to go," Gray called, snapping her out of her daze. "Whenever you're ready."

"R-right; thanks, Gray," she managed, breathing deeply to calm herself and trying to gather her thoughts. "I'm going in."

Lucy approached the door, turned the knob, and pushed it open, prompting the criminal to pause in the twirling and raise his gaze to observe the cause of his disturbance. He grinned and set the pencil down once he caught sight of her.

"Well, look who decided to show up," he said amusedly. "Too busy for me?"

"The world doesn't revolve around you, Dragneel," Lucy shot back as she sat herself down at the opposite end of the table.

"Oh, that's just cold, investigator. I was just asking an innocent question."

Lucy stiffened. " _Nothing_ about you is innocent," she said through clenched teeth.

"As if I didn't know that already," he teased, leaning back in his seat. "It'd be a crime in of itself if I forgot what I did. That's just an insult to my victims' loved ones, no?"

"Don't talk like you were entitled to their lives to begin with," she said sharply. "Every single person you've targeted was completely innocent. None of them had any criminal records, and they all came from decent backgrounds. None of the families and acquaintances of the victims we questioned knew anything about you—except for Lisanna. You had absolutely no reason to go after any of them." She leaned forward and hissed, "You had no reason to kill them. _What's your angle?_ "

For the first time, he looked genuinely surprised. "'Angle'?" he repeated incredulously. "What in the world are you talking about?"

"You had no personal vendetta against any of your seven murder victims. It's like you picked them out at random. What was the point?"

He stared at her in bewilderment for a moment before shaking his head. "Wow. Here I thought you lot were actually smart people."

Lucy made a face. "What?"

"Let me tell you something interesting, _investigator_ ," he began in a mocking tone, crossing his arms. "First of all, I killed way more than seven people this past month. You law enforcers are hilariously uninformed and out of the loop. And second, when did it become a given that there has to be a reason behind every murder? Apparently, people are under the delusion that no one actually murders anyone else unless they have a reason, and even then they're punished for it anyway. So what's the point?" He raised an eyebrow. "I killed those people because I could. Not because of jealousy, or hate, or whatever other stupid reasons people have for murdering. There's no point in having a reason to kill when both sides end up at the same place in the end. It makes no difference." He smirked, spreading out his hands in a nonchalant shrug. "At the end of the day, whether someone had a motive to kill or not, they're still labeled a murderer."

Lucy could hardly wrap her mind around this man's twisted logic. The only reason she'd asked was because most murderers _did_ have a reason for killing their victims, and it had been baffling that nothing could be connected between any and all of his murders besides him being the killer.

And had he seriously just confessed to having murdered even _more_ people than they'd previously thought?

"Wait a minute…" Lucy massaged her temples once. "You…you killed more than those seven?"

"Hm, let's see," he said, frowning and rubbing his chin in an exaggerated fashion. "I recall saying that I killed way more than seven people in the same sentence where I said that you law enforcers were completely hilariously out of the loop, so…" He lowered his hand and chuckled. "…Yeah, I did kill more than seven. Look at how conveniently and obviously that comes full-circle."

Lucy chose to ignore that. "Okay, then," she continued, "tell me this. If you didn't kill just those seven people…then how many did you _actually_ kill? And who?"

"Well, add the number you have plus the number of fingers most people got, and you'll have your solution."

 _Seventeen_ , she immediately thought while simultaneously slapping herself internally for actually doing the math.

Good lord; no wonder not even Erza could get through this psycho. He was messing with their brains like it was all his business to play around.

"Wait—'most people'?"

"Hey, some people have more or less than that. I'm not lumping everyone into one category so arbitrarily."

Lucy bit her lip to avoid snapping at him. _This guy; I swear to God…!_ "Right…of course," she said through tight lips. "Can't have that."

"There; you see?" He grinned playfully. "Glad you understand."

Lucy shook her head once to get a grip on her now-scrambled thoughts. _Focus, Lucy; focus…!_ "What about Lisanna, then?"

He narrowed his eyes slightly in mild confusion. "Hm? What about her?"

"I asked her some questions earlier, and she told me quite a bit about you." She folded her arms on the desk between them. "Well, as much as she could tell before she moved away and you stopped being able to see each other, at least…and something about this is confusing." She caught his gaze and held him there. "According to her story, you were absolutely nothing like this when the two of you were friends. She told me that you were kind and selfless—and you always put others before yourself." She could hardly believe this even now saying it out loud—even when Lisanna had told her the story, it had been extremely difficult to picture. "What happened to you? What caused you to decide on going on this pointless killing spree?"

The man sitting across from her simply stared at her for a moment at her questions, his expression unreadable. Lucy tried to avoid fidgeting under his sharp gaze as she defiantly stared back—she couldn't afford to show any weakness in front of him.

Then he exploded into a fit of chuckles, causing Lucy to flinch in spite of herself at the suddenness. It lasted for a good fifteen seconds or so before he caught his breath enough to speak.

"Wow, okay," he declared, laughter still plain in his tone and raising a hand in apology. "Sorry, I wasn't sure if I should even answer that question because—hahaha—!" He chuckled again briefly, wiping his hand down his face. "J-just wow—what do I even say to that—whew…!"

Lucy couldn't stop the huff of exasperation that escaped her then at his reaction. "Are you going to sit there and giggle all night, or are you actually going to give me a legitimate answer?"

"Oh, no—trust me; you're gonna love this," he laughed. "The funny part? None of it fucking matters."

Lucy frowned. "What does that—?"

"Listen to me, princess," he interrupted her, leaning forward and resting his chin in his hand. "Yeah, everything she told you about that is true. I used to be your everyday straight-A's teacher's-pet goody-two-shoes. How I went from that to _this_ is a no-brainer." He smirked again. "Life can be a real bitch when it wants to be, and time stops for no one. _They change people_."

The glint in his eyes as he said that last line unnerved her considerably. "So…you're not going to tell me," she guessed, trying to keep her voice even.

"There's no point in telling you, really. Would it make any difference to you?"

Probably not, but that hadn't stopped her from asking to start with. Some part of her just had to figure out what made this psychopathic serial killer click. What drove him to do what he did? How did it end up that way? Could he possibly be helped?

But as things stood…perhaps she should hold that off for another time.

"…Fine then," she said at last, straightening up slightly in her seat. "In that case, I've got another question for you."

He raised his head and waved a hand for her to proceed. "Shoot."

"Like I mentioned earlier, your seven victims—the ones that we know of—had no connection to each other whatsoever to each other or to you. Am I to assume that your other…ten victims were the same way?"

He clicked his tongue. "How'd you guess?"

Lucy ignored this. "And after all of those people, why'd you even bother with Lisanna? It doesn't make sense."

He stared at her blankly. "After everything I just told you, you're still asking me why something doesn't make sense?"

Lucy stared back venomously. "Any normal person would ask that if you suddenly go after a childhood friend after offing seventeen complete strangers."

He waved her down. "All right; all right," he sighed. "Getting worked up over every little thing is tiring, you know. Try relaxing a bit more."

"Excuse me, but seeing as how _you're_ the cause of my getting worked up, you have no place telling me something like that," she snapped.

He chuckled again. "Fair enough, I guess." He reclined in his seat and crossed his arms. "For your information— _and_ before you can ask," he tacked on before she could interject, "I wasn't exactly planning on killing her, because there would've been no fun in that." He glanced up at the ceiling once before returning his attention to her. "How's this…let's call it the equivalent of the classic fire alarm prank."

Lucy blinked at his odd analogy before the pieces came together in her head. "You…you were just using her as bait?"

He unraveled his arms and snapped his fingers. "Bingo."

"You can't be serious. That's like saying you were actually—" She paused. "W-wait…hang on. You mean—?!"

"Hey, you guys actually _are_ smart! At least when it really counts." He bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose in a clear attempt at stifling laughter as his gaze flicked up to catch hers. "Did you honestly think you caught me by surprise at that warehouse? And all those other times you 'caught' me? I put in all that effort to make it fun, and you don't even notice that? I must be losing my touch."

"B-but—" Lucy tried to wrap her head around this. "Why in the world would you—?!"

He scoffed. "Please; don't you anything about the drawback of repetitiveness? It eventually gets pretty boring eluding you cops crime after crime, ya know—and what better way to spice things up than by folding my hand every once in a while? It keeps things interesting." He shrugged with a small knowing smile. "And how else would it explain me getting away each time you catch me and bring me in? Surely you didn't think all that was just dumb luck or coincidence, right?"

Lucy could hardly believe what she was piecing together in her mind as all of this information poured in. If she was being frank with herself, she really didn't want to—she didn't want to admit to what that meant.

The lot of them had been completely played.

"It's really fun playing with you," he said, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms, a slight grin on his face. "You actually make these games really interesting, if you get my meaning. Your reactions are priceless."

Lucy could hardly get a grip on herself at his words. "' _Games_ ' _?_ " she hissed in disbelief. "All of that—all of those murders—all those—all those people _dead_ —innocent people you killed for _absolutely_ no reason—and you call these _games? Why?!_ "

"Heh…well, I can't expect everyone to share my sense of humor," he sighed. "People always ask the boring questions in their weakest moments. ' _Why?_ ' they always ask me. And I just say to them, well…" He shrugged as he flashed an impish grin in her direction. "'Why _not?_ ' Justification is a social construct, anyhow. It doesn't really have any bearing on anything that happens in the world."

Lucy was stunned speechless. This man was unbelievable.

"That said," he segued without warning, catching her off-guard, "I can't say that _everything_ I do is just for laughs." He straightened up and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "You asked me why I do this—why do I kill people without reason? I told you that I didn't need a reason to kill people—and that's still true." He raised a finger. "Granted, it did start off that way, but down the line…" He scoffed lightly, an oddly wistful light in his eyes as he lowered his hand and stared at her, which forced a shudder down her back. "…It went from that to just wanting to see how you'd react each time. It was oddly satisfying seeing you act so frustrated over something you were normally numb to." He arched his eyebrows, his grin still in place. "Makes me feels special in a way. You get my meaning?"

Lucy's fists clenched unwittingly. Her throat began clogging up—whether in frustrated anger or overwhelming guilt, she couldn't be sure. If what this crazy killer was telling her was truth, then…directly or not, she'd caused the deaths of a good number of those victims. How many people had lost their lives just for the express purpose of pushing her buttons as he pleased?

"You're sick," she spat.

"Nah, I just have a unique way of keeping myself busy," he countered playfully, picking up the pencil on the table and twirling it in his hand absently. "Everyone has their hobbies. Some read horror novels. Others watch romantic flicks. Some braver individuals jump out of planes with parachutes. And I—" He snapped the pencil in two mid-twirl, making Lucy flinch in her seat yet again. "—I kill people." He chuckled once and shot her a sideways smirk, like he'd just gotten done lecturing a child, as he let the splintered remains of the pencil slip from his hand to the floor. "Simple enough to understand."

"I never said it wasn't easy to understand!" Lucy paused and tried to calm herself—but failed miserably. "That's just making this whole thing even worse! You equate killing people to something trivial like having hobbies?! People's lives are worth more than fodder for your paltry amusement!"

"Oh, trust me, princess," he stated then, more firmly than he had during this entire conversation, "I know very well what people's lives are worth."

Lucy gritted her teeth so hard she could swear that she felt one of them snap under the pressure. "Don't you dare say something like that after all the garbage you just spewed," she growled.

"Oh, I don't think you understand, investigator." He sat up and slapped his palm onto the table. "Whether you believe me or not, I know that a human life is not something you can pin a price tag on. All the more reason for me to do what I do. So I've decided…" He then flashed a grin—his dark eyes flashing in excitement. "…I want to play a game with you."

Lucy's stomach dropped down to the soles of her feet at his suggestion. "A…game?" she repeated cautiously. "What're you talking about?"

"I can't really be more straightforward than that." He grunted as he adjusted himself in his seat and looked to her pointedly. "As is, it's a pretty simple game—because judging from the way things are looking, if I was hauled away to court right now, I'd immediately get hit with the death penalty. So I'll strike a deal with you."

"I'm not striking _any_ sort of deal with a psychopathic killer like you," Lucy snapped. "What sort of idiot do you take me for?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "You sure you want me to answer that?"

"Listen, I don't know what you think you're doing, but I'm not falling for your so-called _games_ anymore!" she said heatedly. "You're _going_ to be taken to court, and you're _going_ to face the consequences of your—your _twisted_ hobby! You can't just kill seventeen people over the course of a month and expect to get away scot-free by the end of it!"

"I don't expect to."

Lucy immediately backpedaled at the unexpected response. "You…what?"

"I'm not an idiot, you know. I'm not so cocky as to think that I won't be punished for this—so I tossed in a variable, just to make things a bit more interesting before my curtain call." He flicked a finger knowingly. "If you remember, when you cops patted me down, you took some items off of my person—my knife, some syringes, and a miniature bottle were among them. Have those in storage somewhere?"

Lucy was taken aback by this—why was he bringing this up all of a sudden? "They're nowhere you can reach," she said firmly. "What're you playing at?"

"Sheesh, I never said I was going to take those back. You law enforcers are too uptight." He leaned forward and rested his chin on his hand, his lips twitching up into a sly grin. "As I was saying…those items are important for this game I'm proposing, so I suggest you listen closely."

Lucy had to stifle an exasperated sigh at the man's words—she wasn't about to show any more weakness in front of him. It didn't seem like they were going to be able to avoid this; he would probably initiate the game in spite of their willingness to cooperate.

"…All right; I'm listening," she said at last, keeping her voice even. "What's your game?"

Lucy could practically see his eyes light up at her response.

"Well, like I've already mentioned, it's a relatively simple game," he began, lifting his head from his hand. "If you remember, there was a cut on Lisanna's forearm—it was the work of that knife. One of the syringes contains a personal formula of mine—it's a slow-working solution that works by thickening the blood. If it's not treated within twenty-four hours of exposure, the victim will slowly hemorrhage and die." He raised his eyebrows and waggled a finger meaningfully. "And that bottle happens to hold the only possible treatment. See where I'm going with this?"

Lucy's throat clogged up in horror as her mind put the pieces together on its own. "You didn't—!"

"All you have to do is get the remedy to the right person before time is up. And it's been about six hours already, so…" He smiled wickedly. "…I'd suggest that you police people up your pace."

"You—son of a bitch—!" Lucy hardly wasted another breath as she bolted to her feet and shot out of the self-locking room toward the back of the station.

Gray was already standing up and rushing for the forensics office. Lucy caught his eye as she rushed toward the cruisers, and he nodded once as he disappeared.

If they were going to be pulled into this game, they were for sure as hell going to win it.

* * *

Natsu grinned to himself as he watched the two officers leave the station, leaving him alone in the interrogation room.

"Silly officer," he sighed to himself in disappointment with a light shake of the head. "You should've listened to all the rules first."

* * *

Even with the sirens blaring, the cars just couldn't get out of the way fast enough for Lucy. It felt like ages before she finally turned onto her friend's street—but not even the familiar sight of the two-story townhouse was enough to calm her wildly beating heart.

The front door had been thrown wide open.

 _Oh, God; no…!_ She flung the cruiser door open and practically flew toward the open front door, bracing herself for the worst—but when she made it to the doorway, nothing was there to be seen.

Lucy breathed heavily as she began exploring the darkened interior of the building with one hand on her gun holster, her thoughts spinning uncontrollably in a cacophonous spiral in her head. _What happened here? Where are Lisanna and Mira? Did someone reach them first? Was I too late? Could it have been Dragneel pulling another twisted mind game? They can't possibly be—?_

Lucy was broken out of her thoughts when the sound of heavy breathing coming from the master bedroom hit her ears. She held her own breath as she slowly inched toward the entrance to the room that had its door slightly ajar. As she got closer, Lucy detected strangled wordless sobs laced in midst of the gasping—it was distinctly female in tone.

 _It can't be—!_ she thought wildly.

She pressed herself against the wall and peeked into the room as far as her position would allow—it was dark aside from the streetlights streaming into the window, so it was initially difficult to see inside, but she eventually caught sight of a slumped figure just below the windowpane, their long silvery hair gleaming in the light.

There was no one else it could've been.

Lucy flung the door open in a panic and rushed into the room, startling the figure on the floor.

"Wh-who's—?!" The young woman pressed herself against the wall in a panic—but then heaved a sigh of relief at the sight of the investigator. "Lucy—!" she whimpered, tears streaming down her pale face. She was clutching her left upper arm tightly. "Oh thank God—thank God; you're here—!"

"Yeah, don't worry anymore, Mira; I'm here," Lucy said breathlessly as she knelt down in front of her, trying to calm herself down. "You're gonna be okay; I promise." Her eyes glanced over her friend and caught a flash of red on her arm. "Wait, Mira; did you get—?!"

"No, this is nothing," she pleaded, frantically brushing away Lucy's hand before she could touch the wound. "Lisanna—you have to get Lisanna back—please, you've got to save her; you have to get her back; he said he was going to kill her; _please, Lucy, I don't want her to die_ —!"

Lucy's heart just about stopped at Mira's begging—but she had to keep herself calm or else she'd spiral into a blubbering panic along with her friend.

"H-hey, it'll be okay," she soothed her, carefully pulling her into a quick hug. "Don't worry; I promise I won't let her die. I'll get her back to you safe and sound." She pulled away and looked Mira in the eyes. "I just need you to try to calm down and tell me what happened, okay? Just start from the beginning, nice and slow. I'll have them send an ambulance in the meantime so that they can take a look at your arm, okay?"

After radioing in and alerting the need for an ambulance at her current address, Lucy listened carefully to Mira's stuttered recounting as she pulled out her gauze and quickly bandaged her wound—it looked like a gunshot wound; she'd need to go to the hospital to get it properly treated—and let each detail sink in until she could hear the ambulance sirens outside.

That was her cue.

"They're here," she said, carefully pulling Mira to her feet. "C'mon, let's get you some help."

She then slowly led her toward the front, where the paramedics were already buzzing with preparing equipment, and she silently vowed that whoever had done this to Mira and her sister would taste lead.

* * *

Natsu stared at the clock above the door impassively.

 _11:48PM_ , it read.

He felt his lips twitch up into a smile.

"Almost time," he muttered, staring out at the now-empty police station.

 _BRRRRIIIIIIING!_

Natsu sighed and rose from his seat. He strode to the exit of the interrogation room and easily clicked the door open. He let the door shut silently behind him as he strode toward the chief's desk and picked up the rattling receiver.

"Is this who I think it is?" he asked resignedly. "I thought I told you to avoid using the station lines."

"…Sorry, Natsu," said the voice on the other end, "but I didn't really have a choice. You weren't answering your cell."

"You…oh, right. They took my cell phone, too; didn't they?" Natsu clicked his tongue. "Error on my part. Anyway, how are things on your end?"

"Things are going smoothly. I've got Lisanna with me, and I've received intelligence that Lucy Heartfilia and her accomplice are making a beeline toward my location now."

Natsu chuckled once. "All right; good to hear," he congratulated. "You've taken a real shine to this now, haven't you?"

Brief silence on the other end. Then: "Well, it's hard not to get used to it after all this time."

"Yes, I would think so," Natsu answered lightly. "Otherwise things wouldn't turn out too pretty for you, would it? I'd think that you'd rather avoid such a result."

A much longer silence on the other end. "…Yes."

"Excellent. Well, then; I'll be with you shortly. Wouldn't want that poor damsel to be too confused."

Natsu then hung up and exited the station out the back of the building, unable to stop the ecstatic grin from spreading across his face.

"Well, well…" he crooned to himself as he stepped out into the cold night air, twirling his freshly-acquired handgun. "Looks like things are finally about to get interesting."

* * *

Thankfully, Lucy had had enough time to radio Gray to give him an update on the goings-on on the way there.

 _"Lisanna got kidnapped?!"_

 _"That's what it sounded like; Mira told me that someone took her. I'm already on my way there; I need you to rendezvous with me, stat."_

 _"Fuckin'—okay, where do I need to go?"_

She'd hardly gotten the address out before Gray's signal cut off and she was left with static, which was just as well—she could understand her partner's urgency. Their close friend had been poisoned by a psychopathic serial killer, unbeknownst to the two of them, and they only had a small window of time in which to administer the antidote, which in and of itself was something they weren't sure about—did they need to inject it? Have Lisanna drink it? Apply to the affected area, if only they knew where it was?

Lucy cursed herself silently as she drove on, her sirens blaring. Perhaps the criminal had had more rules to share had she not left so hastily, but now wasn't the time to dwell on it. If her reasoning was correct, and if Mira's information was anything to go by, then it wasn't a stretch to believe that this man who had taken Lisanna was an accomplice of this killer—and chances were that this accomplice of his would also know how to administer the antidote.

She floored the accelerator and shot past the other vehicles in the road.

"I swear I'll have your head when this is all over, Dragneel!" she hissed.

* * *

Gray's cruiser was already parked in the driveway of the rundown suburban home once Lucy arrived.

She grinned grimly to herself as she parked on the curb and also exited her car, the dry air of the abandoned stretch of neighborhood blowing against her as she strode toward the worn building. The lights were on inside, but the outdoor paint was peeling in many places, the shingles of the roof were either cracked or missing, and all the blinds were shut.

 _Certainly_ looks _like the home of a serial killer_ , she thought to herself.

One thing bothered her as she approached the splintering porch—they'd been given such a specific address to the location of Lisanna that it hit her harder than ever that that man was just toying with them, playing the participants of his "game" like pawns in a game of chess. She had a sense of foreboding—maybe entering this building was not in her best interests if she wanted to win this game—but if she knew anything about her partner, he was probably already inside searching for Lisanna.

 _POP! POP! POP!_

Her breath caught.

"Damn it, Gray," Lucy muttered to herself as she flipped her own firearm out of her holster and ran into the house. "Don't tell me that you're jumping the gun now of all times…!"

The moment she entered the house, the heavy muskiness of the air hit her—it was so pungent that she'd almost let herself get distracted. The smell didn't help much with the heaviness—it smelled like something had died in this building…which was likely.

She spotted Gray crouching behind a weathered leather couch in the otherwise empty living room, one hand hovering over his gun as he peered over the backrest into whatever was in the room to her immediate left (so he probably hadn't been the one firing the gun…that wasn't a good sign). He only noticed her once he turned back around to catch his breath, after which he quickly gestured at her to join him.

She hurried over silently and crouched next to him.

"What's the situation?" she asked in a low voice.

"Just now getting a grip on it myself," he grunted in kind, sparing a quick glance back at the entrance. "I've already deduced the likelihood of Lisanna being in that room there—but someone else is in there with her, and he's armed. We can't just barge in without a plan."

Lucy felt nauseous. "So was that person the one firing the gun?" she guessed.

"Well, I wouldn't recommend looking, but there are bullet holes on the other side of this backrest," he replied as he peeked over the couch again, his fingers just barely brushing the leather grip of his weapon. "Fuckin' maniac just had to pull out a gun…makes this an even bigger pain in the ass."

Lucy bit her lip. "Look, I know protocol requires you to be armed at all times when you're on duty, but if you don't think you—"

"I'm not dumb, Lucy." The dark-haired officer sighed and brushed his hair out of his eyes. "If I need to shoot someone to stay alive, then I'm gonna shoot. No two ways about it."

"…All right, then." She adjusted her grip on her weapon. "So what're we dealing with here? What do we need to watch out for?"

"You mean besides the gun?" Gray pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, I did get a quick glimpse at him right before he fired on me. Average height, dark hair, sort of on the skinny side—so he's not too much of a threat in the ways of defending himself if I tackle him or something, but his aim with a gun is scary accurate." His face grew ashen. "He would've blown out my brains if I hadn't seen him first. That kind of accuracy isn't a fluke—he probably had lots of opportunities to hone it."

Lucy's spirits sunk at her partner's report. A shoot-off with a crazy-accurate shooter wasn't something she wanted to do—especially if Lisanna really was in that room with him. An errant bullet could easily wound or kill her, and the kidnapper could just as easily turn his weapon on her if the situation got dicey for him. She hadn't been counting on this.

 _Damn you to hell, Dragneel!_ she thought furiously.

"Oh, what do we have here?"

Both Lucy and Gray nearly jumped a mile high at the unexpected voice—an all-too-familiar one. They looked around frantically, but saw no one—until they turned their gaze to the room they were staking out.

"No fucking way," Gray whispered in disbelief.

Yet it was—the killer had somehow escaped the interrogation room and was now in the building with them, right before their eyes. The man appeared to be talking to the kidnapper, however—they hadn't been noticed yet.

"Natsu," a second, somewhat higher-pitched voice from someone out of view spoke in response. He sounded surprised, as if he hadn't expected him to be there. "This is a surprise…I didn't expect you here this early."

"I got lucky with traffic," the man answered easily. "So, tell me—what's going on here?"

There was an edge to those words that even Lucy could detect—clearly, he was displeased about something.

"Nothing to worry about," the kidnapper responded. "Nothing happ—"

"Now there's a terrible lie if I ever heard one," the killer said lightly, stepping out of view. "I'm not blind, you know—I saw the cruisers outside. They're here, aren't they?" A light chuckle. "You even shot holes in my couch. You wouldn't do that out of boredom, would you?"

"Of course I wouldn't, but—"

"This is just sad," the man went on, still out of view—it was easier to tell that he was irritated now. "I go through all this trouble to make things interesting, and then you just _had_ to break the game." A sharp _click_. "You snapped under the pressure so easily this time. I wonder…what would Mavis think about you if she saw you like this now, _brother?_ "

Lucy's heart just about stopped at that bit of info. What was going on? It couldn't be that what she thought was happening was actually happening…

"That skinny guy is this bastard's _brother?_ " Gray hissed under his breath. "And who the hell is Mavis?"

The longer this conversation was going on, the more Lucy wanted to leap out from behind the couch and nail the serial killer in the head with lead. Something felt _very_ wrong with this situation…but she was frozen to the spot. Her body wasn't letting her move. A sick intrigue was keeping her in place—some part of her knew that she had to stop whatever was happening, but the desire to witness every moment of this was keeping her in place.

"Natsu, please," the other man—the killer's apparent brother—began to plead, his emotionless façade from before slowly crumbling. "I did everything you asked. You said you wouldn't hurt her if I just—"

"Did what I said, yeah," the man responded in kind, his words growing colder by the word. "And you were doing pretty well for the past month or so—much better than my last one…so much better, actually, that I started to feel sort of sorry for you."

"Wh-what does that—?"

The man let out a high-pitched scoff. "Sorry to tell you," he laughed, "but that girl you've been killing innocents to protect? She's long dead. She's kissing earthworms and pushing up daisies right now."

There was a sudden strangled gasp. "No—you didn't—!

"I honestly didn't think you'd fall for that for so long. I thought I'd lose you much sooner than this, but you went above and beyond with that pointless hope of yours—so I'll give you kudos for that."

"How could y—don't—y-you can't—!"

"I've been wanting to taste yours for a while now." A brief moment of silence. "It's been fun. You gave it your best shot, but it's time to clock out. Goodbye, Zeref."

 _POP!_

 _Thud!_

Lucy could feel Gray tense up next to her in the deafening silence that followed—if only because she was already so stiff herself from holding still for so long—but now a different sort of tension gripped her. She had no idea if she and Gray were going to come out of this game unscathed…or, indeed, come out of this game at all. Only now did it fully crash over her like an unforgiving tidal wave, and it made Lucy feel sick to her stomach…because they weren't just dealing with a psychopathic serial killer.

They were dealing with a sick and insatiable sadist.

"Hey, don't think I forgot about you two!" The man's words made both of them flinch on the spot, unwittingly loosening their muscles and finally allowing free movement. "Why not come inside and say hello? Game's over."

Lucy almost choked at those words. _Wait…the game is over? What's he—?_

"I'd much rather not explain all this to thin air, you know," he said with a put-upon sigh. "Let's have an actual conversation; why don't we?"

Lucy looked to her partner, who had already turned his gaze to her expectantly, and nodded once in affirmation.

Shock flitted across his expression briefly at her response before asking cautiously, "You…you sure about this?"

Lucy drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly in an effort to calm herself before nodding. "Yeah," she answered as evenly as she could manage. "I'm sure. Let's go."

Gray blinked once in disbelief before turning away with a resigned sigh. "Tch…can't believe we're doing this…" He turned back to her, his gaze firm. "Well, looks like we're going. Should I call for backup just in case?"

"No, don't worry," she said, finally rising to her feet. "I have a feeling that it's not going to be necessary here."

Gray simply stared at her as if she'd just watched her willingly spill out her marbles. "Now I _know_ you've gone crazy."

Lucy let her lips twitch up into a wry smile. "I guess this game of cat and mouse just wore on me," was all she would say in response before striding into the room where the man was waiting. She heard Gray's pursuit just behind her, but she paid him little mind. Once she entered the room, she saw that the man was facing away, staring at the remains of his supposed family after shooting him with an odd mix of disappointment and melancholy. Although Lucy was used to seeing gunshot victims, she forced herself to avoid focusing on it too hard as she concentrated all her attention onto the now-bloodied form of the criminal she'd been repeatedly chasing for a whole month.

The man finally glanced up, having apparently sensed their entrance.

"Sheesh, about time," he sighed, placing a hand on his hip in an exaggerated fashion as he lolled his head back and grinned at the two of them. "Sure took a while. What were the two of you doing out there?" He raised an eyebrow. "Or wait; should I let you keep that business between yourselves?"

Gray ground his teeth together and let out a throaty snarl at his words. "You're just _begging_ to be pumped full of lead, you piece of shit."

"You should really chill out, Officer Fullbuster," the man teased lightly as he turned toward them in full, licking a smear of blood off the thumb of his trigger hand. "You'll just end up giving yourself an aneurysm. And I know you have a wife; I'm just teasing."

"Dragneel, you said you had something to explain to us," Lucy cut in before Gray could fire another rebuttal. "What did you mean when you said that the game is over?"

"Ah, the investigator asking the important questions." He tossed his firearm to the far corner of the room, where it clattered loudly on the wooden floor. "Yes, about the game—as you might've overheard earlier, my accomplice broke the rules, so it's game over. It ends with no victor."

"He…broke the rules?" she repeated. "How?"

The man rolled his eyes. " _Apparently_ , he had a spare antidote for my solution. Lisanna isn't in any more danger now; she's safe—he even let her go, hence there being no more reason to continue. She's not here." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Can't really rely on anyone in this world, can you? Not even your family."

Lucy could hardly contain her sigh of relief—Lisanna was safe. She was still alive. Now all they had to worry about was the criminal standing before them.

"So he stabbed you in the back," Gray said, his tone derisive. "Serves you right. What was that whole business about him being your brother, anyway? And I'm guessing Mavis is one person you've killed that slipped under our radar somehow."

The man clicked his tongue. "What d'you know; even you can figure stuff out when you want to."

"Don't test my patience and just answer, smartass."

"So touchy." He licked off another stain of blood on the back of his hand, frowning and smacking his lips a couple times. "Wow…he really should've eaten more foods with fiber in it. No wonder he was so scrawny." He then glanced over carelessly at Gray. "And yeah, he's my brother only in blood—or rather, he _was_. He was pretty useless as a brother in terms of application…but that's not important."

Gray blinked impassively. "Yeah, because shooting your brother in the head and blowing his brains out after using him as a pawn to off innocents for who knows how long isn't important at all."

The man stared at Gray in a moment of incredulity before bursting out with laughter. "Holy shit; you actually have a sense of humor?" He chortled for the good amount of a minute. "Wow; where the hell have I been?"

"Not six feet under like you should be; that's where," Gray snapped.

"Your words of flattery really need work." He let his laughter trail off in a huge sigh as he licked another drop of blood off his index finger. "Anyway, I'm going to drop another tasty bit of info just for you." He flicked his gaze to Lucy, who steadily stared back. "I promise; you're gonna love it."

"…I highly doubt that, coming from you," Lucy said.

"Oh, no; trust me on this. You'll thank me for it." He lifted his other hand from his hip and pointed at Lucy. "See, here's the thing…it's about your precious parents, princess."

A shock shot down Lucy's spine at the man's words. "Wh-what did you just say?!" she exclaimed, her throat clogging in spite of herself. "How do you know about that?! That was—that happened years ago!"

The man looked satisfied. "There; see? Got your attention."

"Start talking, Dragneel!" Lucy began to tremble in her struggle to contain her newly bubbling hatred for the man standing before her. "What do you know about my parents?! And how do you know about them to begin with?!"

"Well…truthfully, how could I not?" He grinned at her playfully. "Funny story; your parents and my brother and I had an… _interesting_ relationship all those years back. And it somehow ended with your mother mysteriously dying and your father vanishing without a trace within hours of each other that _fateful_ day, leaving poor five-year-old you to fend for yourself." He chuckled. "And as fate would have it, here you are unwittingly chasing down the very reason your life spiraled into despair from that moment on without having _any_ clue of the sort! Poetic justice at its finest right here."

Lucy felt her hands clamp into fists, her emotions a cluttered and jumbled mess in her heart with no plan to rearrange themselves.

"Y-you knew about them all this time…" she said hoarsely, still shaking profusely. "And you've just…been playing these stupid games with me…you…" She glared up at him indignantly and demanded, " _Just what in the hell are you, Dragneel?!_ "

The man known as Natsu Dragneel simply smirked at her retort and gave the two of them a mock salute, stuffing his hands in his pockets and stepping right past the two of them without so much as flinching.

"Sorry to say," he replied as he strode off, not sounding sorry at all, "but that's a story for another time."


End file.
